A Longing Heart
by reyoflight
Summary: When Erik reveals himself to be a man, and not a Heavenly angel, Christine must choose how to react and move forward. Pure E/C fluff.


Christine woke up in the room Erik had prepared for her. She turned groggily onto her side, her bronzed curls falling over her face. "Where am I…?" she thought sleepily, her eyes searching in the dim light. Christine took in the lavish bedspread, the tall bed posts, and the extravagant vanity across the room. Suddenly, the night before hit her like a monstrous wave, building slow until it became overwhelming.

Erik! Her Erik! He was a _man_!

The idea was both terrifying and thrilling. Oh, how she had believed, naively, that he was her angel of music. But oh, how she had wished, deep in her heart, that this being that had become her world could be a man. If she was honest with herself, she had thought… she had thought herself in love with him.

Christine shook her head, staring at the floor. What was she to do now? How could she face him, what could she say? She thought back to the previous night, before sleep had taken her.

 _Erik kneeled before her as she sat in his armchair, his body low and pleading. "Christine, I am so sorry. So, so sorry. I never meant to cause you pain." He paused, and made a motion as though to touch her hand, then recoiled. "You mean everything to me, dearest," he said softly, sweetly, and Christine's heart clenched with an unknown feeling. "You must believe I had the purest intentions, I wanted only to ease your suffering, to show you what you are capable of! You are amazing, Christine. Please, please don't cry! Oh, what a wretch I am! I do not deserve to touch the ground beneath your feet."_

 _There was a long silence between them, and Christine's quiet tears continued to fall. She examined the man before her, his long, elegant body and expensive suit. He was real. She could touch him if she wanted to, as she had dreamed of doing for months. But the whole idea seemed tainted now, and she cried more._

" _I know what you must think of me, and you're probably right. Oh, Christine…" He inched forward, looking earnestly into her face. "Could you ever forgive me? Oh beloved, could I ever make this right?"_

 _She said nothing, but turned her face away with her brow crumpled. She was so overwhelmed, she couldn't think of a response. Words bubbled up, some angry, some kind, but she bit them back. Nothing felt right, so she stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the ornate rug._

 _Erik's eyes simmered in defeat. He hung his head, then lifted it up. "You must be exhausted, dearest. I was thinking you could perhaps stay here for the night. I have a room all prepared for you. Oh, it is lovely, Christine, I designed it with you in mind. I think it will be very much to your liking." He stood, and motioned for her to do the same, still unwilling to touch her._

 _Once they were at the door, Christine walked in, closed it behind her, and never said a word._

Christine found some matches near a sconce by her door, and lit the candle, letting light flood the room. She grabbed a comb from off her vanity and ran it through her curled and tangled hair. The brush was a beautiful, hollow silver, with pearls dotting the handle. Her mirror was a large oval with intricate wooden patterns carved throughout. It was a stunning piece of furniture, she noted, as she pressed the bristles through her locks of hair. She sighed, her lips wilting into a frown. Had he done all of this just for her?

Oh, Erik…

Christine's heart felt torn. Should she forgive him? How would they even interact after this? She felt foolish, but she also felt deceived. She had spent the night grieving the loss of her angel, and yet, as as she thought of the man who had wept at her feet, she wondered if her angel was truly gone. Perhaps he was still the same man…

A masked man. And that was the thing that plagued her greatly. Why the mask? Why the underground home? The strangeness of it sent a shiver through her body. Why was he so secluded, and why did he not want her to see his face? What was he hiding?

Christine's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking on her door. "Christine?" a voice called gently. "Are you awake my darling?"

He was using such loving terms to address her, and it caught her off guard. He had never spoken to her like this, he'd always shown reserve. It was as though he'd been holding back for too long, and now the words couldn't stop tumbling from his mouth.

"I…I am," she said, and cleared her hoarse throat. Taking a deep breath, she rose from her vanity and met him at the door. He, with his ebony mask and impressive height, and his eyes, lit up like a child experiencing something wonderful for the first time. No one had ever looked at her like that.

"Good morning, Christine. I hope you had a pleasant rest. Would you like some breakfast? I've made some wonderful things for you to enjoy." He scanned her face hopefully, and Christine nodded.

"Yes… I am hungry," she admitted, her eyes shifting to floor. She let him lead the way, to a charming kitchen and dining area. It was small, but beautifully furnished. He noticed her wandering eyes as he pulled out a chair for her.

"Ah yes, I've made some recent changes to this area of my home. Brightened it up, brought in new pieces. Do you like it, Christine?"

"It's lovely," she said honestly. "You have very good taste, Sir."

Erik frowned, pausing with a half filled plate in hand. "Please, would you call me Erik? You always called me by my name. We do not need to be so formal, you and I. We are well acquainted, are we not?"

"I don't know anymore… Erik, I-" She paused as he hurriedly placed the tray of food in front of her. Christine parted her lips to speak, her brow crumpling, and Erik froze. In a panic, he said too loudly,

"Questions after breakfast, my dear! Best to have some nourishment first. Yes, yes, we will talk then. After breakfast." He wrung his hands anxiously, before leaving the room in an awkward dash. Christine sighed, and her stomach rumbled. She began to pick at her food, which really _was_ wonderful.

He had gone so suddenly, and Christine wondered why he wouldn't dine with her. He seemed so nervous around her, but she had to admit that the feeling was mutual. He had always given off such a confident air while posing as her teacher, this side of him was quite different from anything she'd experienced. She longed for her Angel then, and felt an awful emotion in the pit of her stomach. She would have given anything to be that foolish girl again, waiting obediently in her dressing room, hanging on every word from her Angel's perfect mouth.

Her plate was nearly empty when she heard the sound of a gorgeous piano melody. Christine's eyes widened, and she dropped her fork with a sharp clatter. She rose instantly, hope rising in her heart. His voice, oh his voice. They way it intertwined with the melody left her head spinning and her heart thumping. This was her teacher, her friend, her solace. His voice filled every void in her soul, consumed the loneliness and grief. She sought him out, following the heavenly sound, until she was standing breathlessly beside his piano.

Abruptly, he stopped playing, staring at her with wide eyes. "Christine! Dearest, why are you crying?"

Christine gave a small smile, tears streaming quietly and softly down her pale face. "It's you," she whispered. "I was so worried I had lost my angel… Oh Erik, I was so worried I'd never have that again… have you. He was my best friend, you see. And I wanted him back. I wanted things the way they were. But we can still be like that, you and I. We're just… face to face now." She put her delicate hand on his shoulder, and he flinched, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Oh Christine…" he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly. "Of course we can be like that again. I will be whatever you ask of me. I…I live for you alone. Surely you must know that." He looked earnestly into her eyes, and her heart began to pound.

Was this love?

"Will you take off your mask for me?" she asked, and his eyes hardened instantly. She bit her lip, drawing closer. "Please, I need to see you…" When she received no response, she asked, "Why are you hiding?"

"Because I am hideous, Christine!" he cried, and his hands shook. "This mask," he continued, pointing to his face, "this mask is the only reason you're still here! If you knew what lies beneath it, Christine, if you knew how grotesque, how deformed my face is, you would beg me to wear the mask, and never reveal my face again. You'd scream, and you'd cry, and you'd never want to see me again. I can't bear that, Christine. I can't… please do not ask… please…" His body slumped, and he looked like a wounded animal, too scared to be near her. He looked ashamed.

Christine's eyes were wide as he talked, but she simmered her emotions, willing herself to be calm. "Was there an accident, or…?"

"The only accident was my birth. My poor mother, she hated me. She wanted a beautiful baby and instead was faced with this hideousness. She never held me, never kissed me. _I_ was the accident. I've always known that."

Christine cried again, and she reached out her hand, brushing her fingers against his sleeve. "Oh, Erik, surely it can't be that bad…" He recoiled from her touch, scoffing at her words.

"It is worse, I'm afraid."

Sudden anger pumped through her, and she lifted her hands, bracing them on the piano. "You are no accident! Your mother was a fool not to love you!" Erik jumped slightly, his whole body tensing with her words. His heart pounded furiously. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me! I would be nothing without you. Just a nobody dancer with broken dreams. You restored me, Erik. You've given me life. And I…" Christine paused, taking a deep breath. She blushed deeply, and was suddenly nervous. "I care about you," she said to the floor.

"You… you care… about me?" He stuttered the words, looking as startled as if she had slapped him.

"Is that why you live down here?" she asked, catching him off guard. "Because of your face?"

Erik was still staring at her intensely. "Where else would I be accepted?" he said honestly. "The world is a cruel place, Christine."

Christine stepped closer, so that their legs were almost touching. Erik stood abruptly, although he did not distance himself. "Even with me in it?" she asked, staring up into his eyes through the mask.

Erik continued to stare at her yearningly. Slowly, he said, "no… never with you… with you there is only Heaven."

Christine's eyelids began to droop, and she brought her face closer to his. How she had longed for this moment! She held her breath, and touched her lips against his shaking mouth. The moment was so pure, nothing had ever felt so right. Her heart sung! And then it was over. Erik pulled away, taking several graceless steps back, and from his mouth came the most heart-wrenching sound.

He cried out, and began sobbing.

"Erik!" Christine put a worried hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, should I not have - ?"

Christine was completely shocked when he lunged for her, wrapping his arms firmly around her and burying his wet face in her curls. He was still crying, and his whole body shook. "Oh Christine!" he finally exclaimed. "Christine, Christine! Oh, it's better than I could have imagined. No one has ever… I have never… Oh, Christine!" He continued to hold her tight, and she responded by stroking his back. "You cannot imagine how much I love you!" His body pulsed painfully as he cried, but she latched onto him sweetly.

"I think I can," she whispered, and held him close.

In the days and weeks that followed, their kisses became more frequent, until finally he no longer cried when she touched him. As they sat on the couch together one evening, Christine pressed her lips against him, eagerly touching her body to his. Erik grinned happily, and moved to kiss her back, but she pulled away. He made a soft sound of objection, but she stood her ground.

"I'm afraid I can't kiss you anymore," she said, feigning sadness.

"Oh? And why is that, my beautiful temptress?" He brushed her hair back, and leaned in to kiss her jaw line.

"No! Absolutely not!" He knew that was one of many weaknesses, so she swatted his hand away. "I refuse to kiss you until you remove that mask."

Erik stiffened immediately, and he pushed himself away from her. "I told you no, Christine," he said flatly.

"Well, it's getting in the way. It's too hard to kiss you when you wear it, I'm always bumping my mouth on it." She looked up at him, and lightly fluttered her eyelashes. "Don't you want to keep kissing me?"

"If I removed this mask, you would never want to kiss me again," he said soberly. "Don't ruin everything. …please." His eyes showed how deeply he mourned the idea, and he looked away from her.

"It won't ruin anything, Erik!" she promised, her hand eagerly gripping his arm. "I will have to see your face eventually. Do you really think I could go my entire life without seeing the man I love? What about when we are married?"

Erik's eyes widened, and he spun around to face her. "Married?" he croaked, and Christine's lips parted, her face growing hot.

"Oh," she fumbled, "I just meant… I mean… if you don't want to… I'm sorry, that was silly of me to say," she ended lamely, but she felt like she wanted to cry.

"You would…marry me?" he asked cautiously. "Truly?"

It was Christine's turn to be surprised. "Of course," she said plainly. "I love you."

Erik pressed his hands flat on his thighs, and slid them down to grab his knees. She could tell excitement was bubbling inside of him. "My bride!" he burst out, "You would be _my_ bride. Only mine. Forever!"

"Forever," she echoed with a smile, and reached her hand up to Erik's masked face. The joy in his eyes died instantly.

"Erik, I'm going to remove your mask now, and when I do, nothing will change. I will still love you, and I will still marry you." He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Do you trust me?"

"Christine, please…"

"Trust me," she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his lips as she lifted up the velvet mask. She set it down beside her, and pulled back, staring into his golden eyes. Perhaps he was hideous, by the world's standards. His skin bulged and dipped, and in places was pulled too tight. He had no nose, just a dark hole and surrounding bone. His eyes were sunken in deeply, and the skin was sallow. But they way he looked at her, so terrified, his body trembling. She could do nothing but love him regardless.

"Alright," she said decidedly, and Erik seemed completely shocked at her reaction.

"Alright?" he echoed, sounding alarmed.

"Alright, you may kiss me now. I am your future bride, after all."

And he wept and he kissed her with more delirious joy and unrestrained vigor than any man on earth.


End file.
